Yes, Sir!
by Whisperwill
Summary: Lt. William Henley, a soldier in Lucifer's army, receives a proposal from one General Yeshwa.  One shot.


**Disclaimer: I don't own the Bible. Who can own God's words? I'm not making money by posting this story.**

**A/N: Originally finished on the Fourth of July, 2010 (wow, what was I thinking?). Contains a new character. His name doesn't really mean anything; I just wanted something that sounded good. All other names in the story, however, _are_ symbolic.**

**Rated K+ for mention of death/torture.**

**Yes, Sir!**

It was those accursed shields. They were impenetrable! That was why Lieutenant Henley and his regiment had been captured. After hurling every arrow—every weapon they had in their arsenal, actually, even insults—at the enemy, they had nothing left to fire. And just to make their capture more humiliating, they found out that none of their shots had made it through the shields. Sometimes Henley or his comrades could break through their enemy's defenses if one or more of the soldiers were foolish enough to lower those shields. Unfortunately, as long as they were up, there was no way through. And that was why Henley and the rest of the regiment were marching straight into the enemy camp, their hands on their heads, surrounded by their captors, all holding swords.

Bizarrely enough, it was quite a pleasant prisoners' march. The men around them were talking enthusiastically, telling their enemies how great their General Yeshwa was, the best there could ever be, what an honor it was to serve under him. They were the friendliest bunch of soldiers Henley had ever met, and it made him sick to his stomach. He knew it was all an act, because he knew that soldiers never took prisoners. This was war. Taking prisoners just wasn't done. The last time a sergeant had been stupid enough to bring one of Yeshwa's brigades into camp, Ol' Deluder had taken one look at them and snarled, while shaking the sergeant senseless, "We don't _take prisoners here_!" With that, the men had been executed on the spot.

It was to his execution that he was heading now, Henley knew. Up the narrow path and through the gate they marched, straight into the heart of the enemy camp. He got to his knees along with his men, hands still atop his head. "Contact the general!" the regiment leader shouted. "Tell him we've brought men."

"You mean 'prisoners,' " Henley corrected him bitterly.

"Not at all, Lieutenant Henley," a man's voice rang out. "We don't take prisoners here." General Yeshwa stalked over to them, and instantly his soldiers knelt and presented arms. Henley moaned and pressed himself into the ground. His stomach churned dangerously. If he got sick right now, would he die in a pool of his own vomit? The general seemed very pleased with his men's victory. "You've done well, men," he declared warmly. "Continue as you were." Bending down, he grabbed Henley's arm and pulled him up. "On your feet, Lieutenant Henley," he said. "I want to talk with you. Come with me."

Interrogation—of course. Always the lot of the troop leader. Henley tried to follow him bravely, but his legs were shaking so much it was hard to walk. They entered a tent, where the general seated himself behind a desk and gestured Henley to sit across from him. He took a shaky breath and began to blurt out,

"Lieutenant William—"

"Lieutenant William Henley, 58th Brigade, 114th Regiment in the Legion Army," the general finished. William's mouth dropped open. He had heard tales that General Yeshwa could read minds. So it was true!

"I'm not authorized to say more," was all he could think of to say.

"I'm not asking you to say more," the general answered, surprising Henley. "_I_ want to speak. I want _you_ to listen." He folded his hands and stared at Henley with a keen gaze. Then, without preamble, he said, "I want you to transfer."

"T-transfer?" William stammered, unsure he had heard right.

"Yes. I want you to change your allegiance and sign up under me."

"You're . . ." William hesitated, expecting the general to amend his statement. "You're serious?"

"I am. Your duties would involve bearing arms, waging war, standing firm, and demolishing strongholds. You would be charged to renounce all your former affiliations and remain faithful only to me. And in return, I would give you the life-that-does-not-end, even if you fall on the battlefield." General Yeshwa had a very soft look on his face, unlike anything William had been led to believe about him.

"So—you brought me here to force me to switch sides?" asked William for clarification.

"Not force. You must do it of your own free will," the general answered. Henley waited, expecting him to say more. There must be a catch here somewhere.

"If I don't, then you'll kill me?" he guessed. But the general shook his head.

"No. None of you were brought here to be killed." He stared musingly at the sky through the tent flap. "My enemies will be destroyed one day, when this war ends."

"Are you saying you'll win the war?" William couldn't believe what he was hearing. Did the man really think it was that simple? The war had raged since the beginning! And he thought he was going to win? He obviously had never seen Ol' Deluder in action—he was brutal. "Is that some kind of ploy to get me to join up? That if we get on your bandwagon, we'll automatically win the war, is that it? You brought us here to _sweet-talk_ us?" He folded his arms. "I like it just fine where I am, thank you. I'm not some kind of turncoat who'll betray his leader and his men at the drop of a hat. I'm in General Lucifer's army, and I'm loyal to _him_."

"Yes, he does inspire great loyalty." Yeshwa spoke sadly, but his eyes did not hold despair; he seemed yet sure that he would get his way with William. He got up and walked around his captive, looking him up and down. "You're all bluff, Lieutenant Henley," he declared. "You've seen the way I run things around here, and you know my men are better off by far."

"You must be joking!" William shot back, refusing to admit that Yeshwa had cut right to the truth of the matter. "They only carry swords! You call that armed? And they have no luxuries at all! Only enough to live on!"

"My soldiers need no weapon beyond their swords," the general rebutted him. "And they don't make it a habit to get comfortable on these fields. Their home is above. For that they long, and in me they hope." He smiled tenderly at William. "You see that hope, Lieutenant Henley—you can't _help_ seeing it. And their hope will not disappoint them."

" 'Hope,' " muttered William, avoiding the general's eyes. "There is no hope in this world."

"Oh, it exists, and it's very real," Yeshwa answered. "You just don't know it yet." His eyes searched Henley's face. "Do you want hope, Lieutenant Henley?"

"No!" William exploded. He pushed himself up. "I don't need anything you say. You're crazy, General! You talk about weird things, and you say I'll be happy if I follow you. Do you know what my general will do to me if he finds out I transferred?" Grisly visions of torture and slow death went through his head.

"Is he the one you want to serve?" Yeshwa asked softly. "The one who beats fear into you?"

"He has power." William's voice had become almost inaudible, and his argument seemed to be falling apart at the seams. "Power to give us whatever we want. Power to protect us from you."

"You don't know what power is, unless you have my Spirit," the general dismissed his words. "And I'm not the one you need to be protected from." He folded his arms and commanded, "Choose, Lieutenant Henley—here, today, now. Serve him, and leave here. Or serve me, and stay." Henley swallowed. Now was the time to walk out. He could leave and never come back. He could go right back home to Lucifer.

But—he didn't _want_ to leave. General Yeshwa was right, always right. He was kind and understanding. He had a strange, magnificent power—one that he wielded not with cruelty, but with justice. He was the total opposite of Lucifer, but in a good way. He was . . . amazing. Unless you were totally blind, you wanted to serve him as soon as look at him.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he said to himself under his breath. He took a deep breath and knelt down. "General Yeshwa . . . I'm yours." The general was not surprised, only satisfied.

"Lay down your arrows, William," he ordered, "and all your weapons. My men do not fight with such things." Lieutenant Henley struggled with the command. His weapons were everything to him. But Yeshwa just wasn't the kind of man you could refuse. Henley, reluctantly but surely, placed his crossbow, arrows, darts—everything—at his new leader's feet. General Yeshwa crushed them beneath his boot and kicked them away. "Come with me," he said. "I will outfit you for battle."

The general led him to the armory. He pulled strange pieces of clothing from the walls. "These are called _armor_," he explained to Henley. "They protect you from attacks." For William, who had never been given anything but weapons, it was a strange concept. Lucifer had always told them that anyone not quick enough to dodge an attack, deserved to die. He had no idea how to put the pieces on; it was fortunate that Yeshwa didn't ask him to do so. He fastened the belt and breastplate; he put shoes on William's feet and a helmet on his head. And finally, he gave a shield to William, saying, "This is Faith." He handed him a sword next. "And this is the Word of God. Always keep them with you—never be found without them, or you will be lost."

Lastly, Henley signed his name to the list. Now it was official. His transfer was as permanent as the ink on the page. General Yeshwa was very happy as he declared, "Lieutenant William Henley, you belong to me." William held his new sword up high and yelled out,

"Yes, _sir_!"

+ The End +

**A/N: Lucifer is another name for Satan, and "Ol' Deluder" was what the early American colonists called the devil. Yeshwa is how Jesus' name sounded when he was on Earth. (Jesus is a variant of "Joshua," which means "He saves!" "Joshua" sounded like "Yeshwa" when it was pronounced in the Hebrew.) The army of the Lord is mentioned several times in the Bible: Paul talks about fighting a battle not of this world in 2 Corinthians 10. Theh army of him on whom is written "KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS" is in Revelation 19. And "fellow soldiers," or "soldiers of Christ Jesus," are mentioned in Philippians 2:25, 2 Timothy 2:3, and Philemon 1:2. Anyway, let me know if you have questions, comments, or believe that my reasoning is wrong.**


End file.
